Gently scraping the adhering paper from the firm plastic, colorful cube That beared a delicate weight in my soft, precarious pink hands, I grasped the sticker and pressed it on my protuberant little veins-- “Innocence!” Clarence cried my misleading appellation, “Are you cheating? You’re taking off the stickers, mindlessly relocating them To unravel (or reassemble, rather) the poor little tormented Rubik’s.” *“Nay, you fool. I’m just rearranging them so that no one can solve the puzzle. I’m a sadist, not a fraud.”